


Jory Takes a Wife

by Chick4Chick2



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mail Order Brides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23620495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chick4Chick2/pseuds/Chick4Chick2
Summary: Jory Cassel, a farmer in Montana, is lonely and decides to take a wife.
Relationships: Jory Cassel/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	Jory Takes a Wife

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mynameisnoneya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisnoneya/gifts).



“What you need is a wife.”

Jory was aiming for the saloon’s spittoon just as his uncle spoke. The older man’s advice has him missing badly, drawing a fearsome scowl from the man behind the bar, and choking on what’s left of the chaw in this mouth.

“A wife?! What the hell am I supposed to do with a wife?!”

“Do I need to give you another talk about that, boy?” Uncle Rodrik chuckles as the men they’re playing cards with join in.

Jory feels his face coloring. It’s not that he’s apposed to the state of matrimony altogether but it’s not a state he’s ever much considered entering himself.

“A wife,” he repeats, dumbly.

He had been complaining about how he was struggling to keep up with things at the farm on his own. And he supposes a wife, a help mate, could assist him with that. There’s just one problem…

“Ain’t no gal gonna wanna marry me.”

“Ah, you ain’t so bad. You’re a good feller and you’ve got your own place. Ain’t so many that can say that here in High Heart.”

“Yeah but there ain’t so many women here neither.”

“So? You could get you one of them mail order brides.”

Jory shakes his head. He can’t see how any good could come of sending off for a gal like one might order something from the Sears and Roebuck Catalog at the mercantile. Dismissing the notion, he asks if they’re all more interested in his love life or playing cards. The others button their lips as Bronn deals another round.

But that night in his lonely bed, Jory ponders it. _What would I even put down as an advertisement? Montana farmer seeks wife? And what do I have to offer besides a place to come work with no wages, only my last name?_

The next day though, he goes down to the newspaper office where he can take a look at the advertisements and considers placing one of his own. He’s told of a place back east where they can wire his requests.

“Requests? What am I requesting?”

“You know, what you’d prefer in a lady. Do you wish to specify that she’s pretty? Or never married before? Do you care if she already has children?”

“I…I don’t know. Am I supposed to list things about me?”

“Not really. You’re the would-be husband. She’ll want to know you’ve got a farm and that you can support her. That’s good enough for most of these women.”

“Yeah…I guess so.” If he were to give an accounting of his looks, he’d probably just say: Jory, Plain and Tall, seeks good woman to be his wife and help with the farm. _And warm my bed maybe._ He colors just thinking that.

He goes back home again without placing an advertisement. But as he’s sitting down to his plain fare of beans and dried crackers for supper at his empty table, he thinks how nice it would be to have someone sitting across from him, someone who he could tell about his day and maybe share hers…and maybe someone who can make something besides beans.

He returns to the newspaper office the next day.

* * *

As the train comes to a chugging halt at the platform, Jory sweeps his hat from his head and crushes it between his hands. He’s as nervous as a…well, a bridegroom.

There’s a crush of folks disembarking from the train but he spots a lady with dark red hair and a black bonnet with a purple silk rose in it. That was how she’d said he would know her when they’d come to their agreement.

“Miss Turner?” he says, waiting for her to turn.

Her eyes had been roaming the crowd and when they landed on him, Jory held his breath, fearful but half-expecting to see disappointment in them.

“Are you Mr. Cassel?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m…that’s me,” he says in a daze. She’s far prettier than he’d anticipated. Why’d she come all this way for a husband. Surely, the fellers must all be fools back East if she’s not been snapped up by the age of twenty.

A smile blooms upon her face and, by gum, she’s ever prettier then.

Jory reaches for her trunk, a small thing though heavy. “May I?” She nods, her cheeks blooming with color. “Did you have any more baggage, ma’am?”

“No, that’s my little everything, Mr. Cassel.” She licks her lips and looks around. “How far is it to the church?”

“The church? Oh, well…it’s just yonder,” he says pointing out the steeple. “Was you wanting something to eat or did you wish to refresh yourself? I could show you my farm or…”

“If you don’t mind, Mr. Cassel, I’d prefer if we took care of the wedding first.”

Holy hell, he hadn’t reckoned on them marrying the minute she stepped off the train but he won’t argue none. She’s willing to marry him and that’s good enough for Jory.

“That’d be fine. And I hope you’ll call me Jory, ma’am.”

There’s that pretty smile again. “Jory,” she repeats. His name’s never sounded so nice. “I’ll ask you to call me Liza then.”

Carrying her trunk under one arm and offering his other, they make their way to the church. He’d thought to ask his uncle to attend and stand by him but Liza ain’t got no one to stand by her and the reverend and his wife will do.

Twenty minutes later, they’re loading her trunk into Jory’s wagon and he’s a married man. 

* * *

Liza is shown the farm, the fields, the barn and then the house. He’s chattering away, explaining thing, apologizing for others and she can tell he’s nervous, more nervous than her even.

If only he knew what a blessing his offer was. Last year, she was disgraced in her hometown after she’d been caught in Father Jaime’s quarters in a compromising position. The walking temptation in priest robes had been forgiven as men always were when they were ‘lead into sin.’

But Liza hadn’t received a lick of sympathy despite the fact she’d not started things. Maybe she’d been tempted but she never would’ve looked at him that way if he’d not started things.

Rejected and outcast, a fallen woman in the eyes of the local parish and throughout town, she’d offered herself as a mail order bride , certain she’d never find a good man to make an honest woman of her otherwise.

Montana will be an adventure maybe. She’ll adapt to the life of a farmer’s wife. She’s worked hard most of her life. She can do this. She prays that in time Jory might come to care for her and she will do her best to make him never regret sending for her.

“This is the, uh…bedroom,” he says shyly after showing her the rest of their small home.

There’s another smaller room with a pallet in it but this is the only room that can be called a bedroom. Someday, that other room might hold a cradle. Her heart warms at the thought. She’ll give him children if he wants them. She’s not afraid.

“It’s lovely,” she says and means it. Curtains and a simple quilt, he’d mentioned he had a young cousin named Beth who’d made them. Liza will like making her acquaintance. “Shall I make us some supper?”

He smiles. He’s not dashing but he’s got an honest face and his dark eyes are kind. She likes his hair, the way it hangs just past his chin. He’s clean-shaven. He’d admitted when they were in town he’d visited the barber. _“Just for a shave though.”_

She thinks he’s attractive and he’s obviously strong and well-muscled from a life of labor. She prefers an honest face and strong arms to smiling green eyes that whisper sweet but poisonous lies.

“Supper would be welcome.” He scratches his head, looking troubled. “There ain’t much in the larder.”

“Flour? Butter? Some salt, sugar and such?”

“Yeah, I got that.”

“I’ll fix us some biscuits to start and see what else I can rustle up.”

An hour later, he’s praising her for a saint. No, I’m a sinner but I can cook.

“That’s the best I’ve eat in a month of Sundays,” he declares, wiping his mouth.

“I’m happy you were pleased.”

“I gotta see to some chores before night fall but…I’ll be in later and we can visit a spell before bed.”

“That’d be lovely. I’ll brew us up some coffee if you like.”

He’s grinning so wide now. Darting forward, he gives her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Liza, for coming. I mean to be a good husband to you.”

“I mean to be a good wife,” she says, her heart thump-thumping from that little kiss. They’d shared a kiss in the church earlier after saying their vows, a dry peck that hadn’t affected her so. She likes making Jory happy though and perhaps that’s the start of something.

* * *

He’d been out past sunset and she wonders if it was that nervousness keeping him away. She’s cleaned up the kitchen and even tidied up the sitting room. His coffee is waiting for him when he comes in at last.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d wanna go lay down what with the long journey here and all.”

“I waited for you.”

He nods and takes a seat.

They talk for a time, getting to know more of each other. She likes everything she learns of him and decides to share her shame.

“I don’t want you to think I tricked you…what with me not being a virgin.”

“I ain’t one neither. I can’t say nothing. Were you…did you work in a saloon or…”

“No, I did not. Just a young girl who allowed her head to be turned.”

“And he didn’t do right by you?”

She likes the way he phrased that and the flash of anger in his eyes. “He couldn’t. His vows forbid it.”

He soaks that in, a grave look in his eyes and for a moment, she’s afraid. Has she said too much? “I’m sorry, Jory, if you’re…”

“You ain’t got nothing to be sorry for. I’ve known some fellers like that myself. I’ll never bring him up again unless you’ve got something to say on the matter.”

“Thank you for understanding.” He stifles a yawn and it brings one out of her. “Shall we retire?”

He’s looking bashful again. “I can sleep in the other room tonight if you prefer.”

“You’re my husband and…I’m not afraid.”

“I can tell. But I don’t wanna make you feel forced.”

“You’re my husband. You can claim your rights freely. It was why I wished to marry right away…so you wouldn’t take your pleasure and cast me aside before we wed.” He scowls. “I did not know you so well. I don’t believe you’d do that but I couldn’t be sure.”

“I understand. I hope in time you’ll know that’s not me.”

“I believe it already.”

“Liza, if all I wanted was…physical love…I could’ve visited a brothel. We can work towards this if you prefer.”

“I know but we will be sharing that bed tonight and I thought we may as well get a start on things.”

“Start on things?”  
“Like some more helpers for this farm in time,” she teases. “Would you like that?”

His soft look tells her he would. “Very much,” he says, his voice strangely gruff.

“So…what would you prefer tonight? The pallet in there or your bed and your wife?” He’s laboring over what words to speak, not wanting to lie but not wanting to come out and say it either, she thinks. She doesn’t miss the way his lips twitch and she catches that hungry look in his eyes. She laughs and stands up, holding out her hand. “I thought as much.”

* * *

Liza takes a deep breath and enters the bedroom. Jory is still in his working clothes he’d worn after they’d come here from town and she’s still in the dress she’s worn the past two days. She’s eager to be out of it.

Her hand traces the pattern on the quilt covering their bed. When Liza looks up, Jory meets her gaze steadily.

“You’re sure,” he asks now that they are here.

“I’m sure. Are you?”

"Liza…you are an exceedingly beautiful woman. Bedding you will be no hardship at all."

She feels a giggle building at his admittance but also finds herself responding to his words with a rush of desire. "Will you help me out of this dress?"

She pulls her hair over her shoulder and listens to his footsteps crossing the room. Liza shivers when his hand settles on her hip for a moment before he starts loosening the ties. His fingers fumble a little but he knows his way around a woman’s underthings. He grasps her dress, pulls it over her head and helps her step out of her petticoat. She sits on the bed to unbuckle her shoes in nothing but her unmentionables. She doesn’t miss the way his eyes are roaming over bit of flesh he can see.

He shoves his suspenders down. Free of her shoes, she rises and starts unbuttoning his shirt. His shoulders and chest and tanned and muscled. A very fine looking man.

He dips forward when he’s down to his britches with her still in her underthings and kisses her, slow and sweet and deep. God, he can kiss. His lips are full and firm, his hand cups the back of her head and she feels a thrill of elation. She’s glad she was bold enough to take this step tonight. They’ll have much work to do building a marriage but tonight they’re making things official and she’s glad of it.

For a priest, Father Jaime had made her feel soiled with his every touch. He’d toyed with her, teased her, taught her how to please him with her hand and mouth and finally put his manhood inside her a handful of times with her skirts thrown over her head as he laid her across his table. Her shrewish aunt had said she was lucky she wasn’t to bare a priest’s bastard on top of burning in hell for all eternity.

But Jory’s touch is different, it’s gentle and tentative and nothing about it makes her feel unclean. Even as passion starts to bloom and those kisses deepen, she can tell he will take care of her.

He stops to shove his britches down, stepping out of them as there’s a fire burning in his eyes. His cock springs freely, thick and large. Liza swallows hard, looking her fill. “You’re a well-made man, husband.”

He’s blushing as his chuckles. “And you’re a beautiful woman, wife. A beautiful woman I wouldn’t mind seeing the rest of if she’s willing...” He can see all of her if he likes whenever he chooses but she likes the way he asks. Her chemise and bloomers fall to the floor and she hears Jory’s low curse. “God Almighty…”

He steps into her space again, looming over her. He leans forward for another kiss as they are both bare now. This kiss is more heated than the last few, an assault of lips and tongue that leaves her breathless and needy. His hands grip her waist and he pulls her closer. She can feel his manhood against her belly, hot and heavy. She could kiss him like this for days, she thinks.

Her hands slide up to his neck, wrapping around it. She tilts her head slightly, encouraging him to deepen his kiss even more.

When he pulls away at last, they're both breathing hard and she feels lightheaded. Damn, he’s a good kisser and she’s thanking God above for seeing her safely to Montana.

“Wife,” he growls, backing her up toward the bed.

“Yes,” she whimpers.

His body presses into hers, and she gasps at the feeling of his chest against her breasts. Her knees hit the edge of the bed and she falls back onto it, scooting up toward the pillows. Jory climbs up after her, pausing with his hands on either side of her shoulders and one knee between her legs, not quite close enough to touch.

"I’ll do my best to please you. Tell me if it hurts," he says, his eyes black as coal.

She nods, unable to say anything coherent, her body already readying for potential bliss.

Leaning up to give him a kiss, she draws him towards her. Jory lowers himself to his elbows. She draws in a sharp breath when his thigh brushes between her legs, but he doesn't seem to notice. Instead he moves his lips down to kiss her neck, and oh, she didn't realize how good that would feel. She tentatively sets her hands on his back, and when he doesn't protest, spreads her fingers to feel his muscles flexing while he mouths at her collarbone.

Jory's hand slides up her side to cup her breast. Her breath is coming fast, even though they've barely started. He thumb brushes across her nipple, and her insides clench up.

“Ohhhh…”

He grins, pleased at her response.

Wishing to get her own share of touching, she lets her fingers glide over his chest and shoulders. “Is this alright?”

"You may touch me anywhere you like."

Liza bites her lip and lets her exploring continue. His skin is softer than she expected and so very warm. She dares another glance at the thick cock in its nest of dark hair down there and it makes her ache between her legs.

Jory's hand comes back down to her breast, rubbing gently over her nipple again, and she can't help the small sound that escapes her. Of course, that makes him smile, a kind of cat-who-got-the-cream curve of his lips that she likes seeing. It’s quite fetching.

He lowers his head and puts his mouth on her other breast, hot breath making gooseflesh appear. Her nipple is already hard by the time his mouth closes around it, his tongue wetting it thoroughly. She moves her hands to his back so she has something to dig her fingers into. Jory lavishes one of her breasts with attention from his mouth, the other with his fingers.

She reaches out and gets her fingers tangled in his hair, then tugs him up so she can kiss him again, feeling like she needs to be doing something with her mouth. It shifts his body around so that his thigh is pressing against her, and she makes another sound into his mouth, her body rocking up into him without any conscious thought.

His lips curve against hers while his hand moves down over her chest and belly. She can't help trembling a little as his fingers move lower, grazing low on her belly. Then they move lower still, a light touch. Liza sucks a breath in through her teeth, her abdomen tensing at this feeling that she can tell is about her pleasure.

"You're wet."

She blushes and nods. She nods towards his crotch. "Looks like you're enjoying it too."

Jory snorts and doesn't deny it.

He surges forward and kisses her again, but this time he settles his whole body against her. She moans into his mouth when he rocks his hips into hers, his erection grinding into her and making her see stars.

Caressing her again, he starts to kiss his way down her body. He sets his hand on her knee, then slides it up her thigh. Her stomach tightens in anticipation as he gets closer, his breath on her wet skin making her shiver. His finger touches her first, though, sliding along the length of her folds. His gaze flickers up to meet hers but she nods, not wanting him to stop.

His tongue brushes her bud and she makes an embarrassing noise, high-pitched and surprised. She’s never experienced this before. Jory does it again, and again, and Liza is already so worked up she can feel herself dripping down onto the bed. His finger slips inside her and she moans, unable to hold back. It feels strange but also so good . Jory clearly knows what he's doing, because his tongue is starting to drive her crazy. And when he closes his lips around her bud and sucks , she arches off the bed with a cry, her climax taking her by surprise.

She comes down from it slowly, dizzy with pleasure and the overwhelming feeling of his fingers and mouth still moving on her. He lifts his head after a moment, looking up at her with dark eyes, his face shiny and wet with her moisture.

He pulls his fingers out of her and sits up, sucking them clean, and it makes that ache low in her belly build all over again.

Wanting to bring him some pleasure too, Liza reaches down to touch his cock. It's hard but also soft to the touch, his skin hot and silky. Jory makes a choked noise when she wraps her hand around him, giving her a rush of accomplishment.

“I’d rather not spend in your hand,” he smirks and then positions himself between her thighs.

He slowly pushes his way inside and he’s so big. But her body adjusts and she feels so full in a different way that’s pleasing. He groans and it sends heat pooling into her belly. He holds still for a minute while she pants and shifts her hips restlessly. Then, he starts to move.

His motions are slow and shallow at first as she acclimates but he starts to pull out further and drive deeper with every thrust. Liza finds herself moaning, clutching at his back and wrapping her legs around his hips. It feels good, so good, especially with him braced on his elbows above her, breathing heavily into her hair. He's surrounding her, on top of her and within her and she gives herself over to it, losing track of every thought but the pleasure mounting inside of her. Jory seems to be right there as well, breathing hard and sweating, leaning down to capture her lips in a messy kiss.

Maybe it goes on forever, or maybe only for a few minutes. Liza can't be certain. All she knows is that Jory starts to thrust harder, hitting the perfect angle, enough to push her inexorably towards a bliss she’s never known. She claws at his back, probably leaving scratches, writhing under him as he moves, too far gone to be embarrassed by the sounds she's making anymore. Jory is still only breathing hard, but when she comes again, clenching around him and crying out, he makes a little sound in her ear, then a longer one, grabbing her hips to hold her still as he finishes inside her.

It’s a little hazy after that, a pleasant buzz throughout her body while he moves off of her. They share a quiet laugh and she uses the necessary before they both dress for bed. They’re soon lying next to each other.

"Sleep, wife," Jory says sleepily. She feels sleepy, too. "Days start early here."

Liza is just on the edge of drifting off when she feels him slip his arm tentatively around her. She settles her own on top of his and laces their fingers together. She thinks this marriage is off to a good start.


End file.
